


The Wicked

by BeTheSammyToMyDean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Not Related, Angst, Angsty Dean, Castiel is insane, Dark, Fluff, Happy Ending, Jimmy Novak - Freeform, Journalism, Journalist Sam Winchester, M/M, Sad Dean, Serial Killer Castiel, Serial Killer Dean Winchester, Sweet Ending, open ending kind of, past Destiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2020-04-23 15:11:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19153543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeTheSammyToMyDean/pseuds/BeTheSammyToMyDean
Summary: Sam knew there was a story here, there had to be. But the longer he talked to Dean, the more he started to question if the guy was really guilty at all...





	1. The Beginning

**_04/06/2005_ **

_Hello,_

_my name is Sam Wesson, and I am a journalist. I very much enjoy my job, it has always been a dream of mine to do this and I know that I am extremely lucky to have what I've always wanted. In the time that I've had this job I have written many different stories for various newspapers and magazines, and they've been liked by a lot of people. By my boss as well. In fact, he was the one who suggested I do this. At first I was very nervous. Maybe nervous isn't the right word for this. I wasn't jumping at the opportunity because I know that this is a very hard thing to do, because the subject is a very hard one. Writing on its own is already hard, but if you pick a subject that so wide and has been done so many times before, it gets even harder. Many other people have written stories on serial killers, you can easily find a thousand different newspaper articles on murders, and now I want to do one as well? Yes, because I am going to make this different. I am going to write a story about serial killers who have been on the America's Most Wanted list._

_Now, first things first: how does one get on a list like that? I doubt you would want to get on there yourself, because it really isn't easy to get on it or off it. And it isn't a good thing to be on the list either, because any of the reasons why you're on the list can only be bad. You have to be a very bad person to get on it, and no sane person wants to be a bad person. Seeing as there are and have been many people on that list, I'm going to narrow it down to a few people. Obviously I can only talk to people who are no longer on the list, because the ones that are still on it haven't been caught yet. So, that narrows down the list already. The ones that I will be writing about have once been in the top ten most wanted, and are considered extremely dangerous even behind bars._

_You might be asking yourself: why is this guy doing this? Don't worry, I'm fully aware of how dangerous this is to do. Not only am I writing about something so controversial, I am also putting myself in incredible danger by being in a room with these killers-_

Sam snorted, shaking his head at his own writing. Dangerous? Sure. They were going to be chained up, unable to move. How was that dangerous? He was going to have a guard watching him, maybe even more than one. But, why not act like he was risking his life? It would make his story a whole lot more entertaining, right? Look, Sam didn't really enjoy lying or exaggerating, but he had to make his story catchy somehow. He had to get paid, so he had to make sure that his story was different from anyone else's 'cause he needed to pay rent, okay?

He really did love his job, it was just that lately it had been getting boring. Every story seemed the same to him. Lost cats, tomatoes shaped like ducks, someone who saved another kid from drowning. Nothing like that was exciting anymore to Sam, this wasn't why he wanted to be a journalist. But this though, this story, this could actually be interesting. Serial killers, a very hard subject. There were so many twists and turns, and you could never know if a murderer was telling the truth now would you? But, if he really worked for it, he could perhaps get into the mind of a serial killer and know exactly how their brain works differently than that of a normal person.

It was going to take up a lot of Sam's free time, and maybe in the end it would all be a waste, but at least he would be doing something that he loved. Sam leaned back in his chair, glancing at the small whiteboard he had on the wall that his desk was put against. The names of every person he would interview were on there, along with their pictures. Wasn't that weird? They looked like normal people, which always confused Sam a little. At least this totally showed that the Lombroso Theory wasn't right at all. 

"Born criminals can be anatomically identified by such items as big ears, big forehead, and a unibrow. Which is complete bullshit, of course," Sam mumbled in a tired voice, shaking his head. It was literally ridiculous. Why would criminals have a certain face? Besides, none of the guys on his whiteboard looked close to Lombroso's description, and Sam was going to be the one who finally figured out what differed normal people from criminals. "Dean Smith, here I come..."

Prison wasn't exactly a place where Sam would ever want to stay any longer than he absolutely had to. The grey building with the bars in front of the windows and the barbed wire over the courtyard walls made his skin crawl, and he just felt uneasy going through all the security. This was the real thing, the thing he had been looking forward to the entire time. But now it seemed to be scary to him, like he was finally realizing how big of a story this could become, how important this would be for his career. This could make or break him.

It took a while before Sam was finally seated in the interrogation room, which was basically just a mostly empty room. It had a table in the middle that was bolted to the floor and had hooks in the top which Sam assumed were for Dean's handcuffs to be chained to. There were two chairs, one on each side of the table, and Sam sat down in one. He glanced around, eyes roaming over the grey brick walls, the camera in the corner, and the one way mirror. Sam knew there were measurements taken so he was still protected even though he would be alone in this room with a serial killer. It made him feel a little better because it made it less likely for him to become one of Dean Smith's next victims. He wanted to learn and know everything about Dean and his murderous ways, but not through that way.

And then he waited, nervously wiping his hands on his pants from time to time. He knew Dean would be there soon, and he had everything ready. His papers, his research, his pictures. Everything to get the story out of Dean. He came prepared, he was a smart man and had done his research of the serial killer. The man had been a vicious murderer, apparently. Had a body count higher than most other killers, and people weren't even sure if Dean had only committed as many murders as he had confessed to. Many said there had to be more victims out there.

"Dean Winchester, mister Wesson," Sam got up from his chair at the voice, watching as Dean was brought into the room. The man was cuffed to the table, unable to move much now. It made Sam feel a little more comfortable, at least Dean wouldn't be able to suddenly start strangling the life out of him. "We'll be right outside the door, sir. There's a camera in the corner, as soon as he does anything we'll come and save you." Sam nodded and the guards walked out of the room, leaving Sam and Dean alone.

There was a weird vibe in the room, a strange air. Sam assumed that had something to do with the fact that there was a murderer sitting right in front of him. He turned his head, looking at Dean who was already staring at him, a small smirk on his face. Sam hadn't known what to expect, really, but it seemed that the pictures didn't do Dean justice: he was even more gorgeous in real life. He had these bright green eyes, framed with dark lashes, and freckles were splattered all over his pale skin. His lips were plump and Sam assumed that many of his fellow inmates had tried to get to that mouth, which Sam didn't really want to think about. Hell, even the bright orange jumpsuit looked amazing on him somehow. 

"Right, Dean Winchester," Sam started, making Dean look up into his eyes. They weren't the cold eyes of a killer that Sam had expected them to be, no, they were different. There were actual emotions in them, and Dean looked smarter than anyone made him out to be. "I'm here to find out more about you and your motives. If you let me, I'll write your story, and let everyone know who you are," Dean didn't say anything, he just sat back the best he could while being chained up. He had this air about him, making it seem like he couldn't care less about what Sam or anyone else thought. "Right, let's get started, shall we?" Dean grinned, winking at Sam who looked down at his papers. This was going to be very, very interesting...


	2. Chicken Noodle Soup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What wouldn't you do for chicken noodles?

 

"Name?"

"Dean Smith."

"Sex?"

"Plenty of it. Before prison, of course. Not that it's any of your business, but I am so not letting any of these creeps touch me. First of all, they're way too dark and kinky and worked up. One wanted to shove a bar of soap up my-"

"Male or female, I meant male or female."

"Well, I don't really mind either way. I can honestly do both. There's only guys around me at the moment though, so I'm forced to stick to those for now. But there's a surprising lack of condoms here, and I'm not letting anyone fuck me without one. I mean, they oughta know that keepin' hundreds of men together for years without them gettin' any sex is gonna result in some sexual tension that they're just gonna have to get out, right? So why not help us by providing condoms? Save sex is... Well, good sex. Can you write that down in that little notebook of yours? Get the boys some condoms, please."

Sam sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He had only been talking with Dean for around two minutes and he was already so fucking done with it. This man was cocky, sassy, and extremely annoying. What had Sam ever done wrong to deserve meeting someone like this? This was a whole different species of men, and honestly? Sam wanted to smack him in the face and walk away and he would have done so if Dean wasn't a serial killer. He was terrified of Dean, and he also knew that he needed to get this story to finally get a better job. He didn't want to be stuck interviewing insane people for the rest of his life.

"Could you at least  _try_ to take this seriously? I've had a very long day and I don't need you to-"

"Oh, I'm sorry,  _you've_ had a long day? Buddy, I'm in prison. My roommate tried to squeeze my balls while I was trying to take a fuckin' piss. Suck it up, buttercup. Life stinks, get over it." Dean rolled his eyes, sitting back as much as he could with his wrists still chained to the table. It looked uncomfortable, but did Sam care? Not at all. This guy was the worst. Not only had he killed many people, he was also very fucking annoying. "I'm only doing this so I can get some chicken noodles for dinner instead of whatever pale slop they always serve. They dare call that vegetables? No, I've seen veggies and those ain't it."

"You- You're talking to me so you can get noodles." Sam repeated, closing is eyes for a second to calm himself down. Yeah, okay, he was done with this. This was prison, it was different from real life. Dean would get his chicken noodles no matter what he said to Sam, so why tell the truth? It wouldn't get him anything. So that was why he was acting like this. Sam needed to figure out a way to get Dean interested in telling the actual truth, in getting him to open up. But what did someone who was locked up for life want?

Dean pursed his lips, shrugging his shoulders a little. "Basically, yeah. I mean, it's all I can get, buddy." Sam bit his bottom lip, tapping his pen on his notebook for a few seconds while he thought. Okay, he had seen his fair share of movies and series about jail and prison, and he knew there were some things that no one was happy about. Like the food, the bunk beds, and the shared showers-

"What if I can get you private shower time?" Sam suggested, making Dean look up at him. The journalist raised a brow, feeling smug. See? Even someone as crazy and dark as Dean Smith wanted and needed some private time, especially in the shower. Everyone needed privacy, and in prison you didn't  _ever_ have said privacy. Dean must be craving it after having spent months locked up. "That's right. I can get you private shower time where you can shower all by yourself. You won't have to share with anyone. No soap dropping, no comments, no butt slapping. Nothing. Just you, hot water, and a bar of soap."

Sam watched as Dean swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing, before he nodded and leaned forward onto the table again. "Fine, you give me alone shower time and chicken noodles whenever I want them, and I'll answer every question you have honestly." Sam grinned, nodding his head. Maybe this wasn't so hard after all, he just had to improvise. "Deal?"

"Deal."

_**06/06/2005** _

_Dealing with someone who is locked up in prison and has been locked up in prison is different. I've interviewed many kinds of people, but nothing like this before. This is different, because these are people who don't have anything to lose. For example, Dean is already going to be locked up for the rest of his life, it doesn't matter what he does because it can't get any worse. There's no way he is ever going to get out, so why tell the truth, right? He's not going to get anything out of it, so there's no point._

_I understand that, but yet it took me some time to figure out what it was that someone like Dean could want. The things he would want are simple, though. I think we have all seen some kind of show depicting prison life at some point in our lives and we've all seen how horrible it is. Of course, most of those shows are faked, and they don't show what it really is like, but there's still some real things in there: the shared cells, the lack of privacy, the terrible meals, the shared showers. Those are all things that are the biggest downsides of being in prison. Even the most social people need privacy from time to time, right?_

_Early on in our first talk I discovered that Dean was only talking to me for one reason: chicken noodles. I've asked around a bit because I wanted to know more about why Dean could want something as simple as this, but apparently the food options aren't really that great. Dean himself called the vegetables 'slop'. (I am planning on investigating these claims, like a true journalist). Chicken noodles are apparently much better than anything that's actually being served. You can buy them along with other items every week but there's only a certain amount you can have of them weekly, and Dean apparently already hits that amount every time. So, he made a deal. Because he isn't going to get anything out of talking to me at all, he made a deal with the staff that he is going to get more noodles if he talks to me._

_Of course, that's amazing. But not for me, because he never included telling me the truth or answering my questions like he should. Dean knew that he wasn't going to get anything out of our conversations. He isn't stupid, I figured soon that I needed to make sure that he would get to make a deal with me. And that's when it hit me: private shower time. I made a deal with Dean Winchester, showering all on his own in return for him answering all my questions truthfully. He told me I have to show him I live up to my word first before he talks, and I cut our interview short to go talk to the manager instead. They agreed, and Dean is getting as many packets of chicken noodles as he wants for as long as I interview him._

_So, even though I haven't been able to ask the questions I wanted to ask him and get the answers I wanted to get yet, I am going to try again next time. This is a work in progress, and I have to figure out how to do this the best way I possibly can._

_I will keep you updated._

_\- Sam Wesson_

 

 


	3. The human brain

_**08/06/2005** _

_It took me a while and a lot of negotiating, but in the end I got Dean Smith his private shower time. I know, it both shocked and annoyed me that it had to take this long. I had definitely not expected that. But then again, this is prison and I'm not used to anything like this. All the stories I've written before have been easy, or at least easier than this one. I have to make the right choice with every word I say, because Dean can just decide not to talk to me anymore and that would be that. End of story. And I can't have that happening, which is why I have to be extra careful._

_Dean is very different from what I thought he would be. Of course, throughout our entire lives we are told to think certain things about certain people. About criminals our first thought might be that they're broken, or that they have gone through something traumatic and just snapped, ending up doing things wrong. Maybe we think that they're stupid, or that their brain hasn't developed the way it should. Whatever it is, we don't think they're normal human beings. There's many judgmental thoughts going on about criminals, which is obviously understandable, but also very much wrong. Not every criminal has been through traumatic experiences, not every criminal is stupid or broken. No, some are just normal human beings who were pushed too far._

_Besides, it's not always meant to happen, now is it? Sometimes people kill by mistake, or because they didn't have any other choice. Sometimes it simply is self defense. You can't tell me you haven't been in a situation where you felt threatened. Maybe in a nightclub, or in the streets at night, or even in the store. We've all felt uncomfortable in certain situations and we've all been scared of people. Of course, that doesn't mean you immediately just go ahead and kill someone, but it might happen. Maybe someone is holding a knife to your throat, a gun to your head, and somehow in the struggle you get a hold of that weapon and then- you've killed someone._

_It can happen in the heat of the moment, just in a split second. That's why we can't immediately judge someone for their actions. Innocent until proven guilty, right?_

_I do believe that there are criminals who are born being bad. Maybe they won't do wrong things when they're supported or have medication or if they are helped properly by professionals, but once they hang out with the wrong crowd there's no morals stopping them. I think that, even if they're born to be bad, they can still be good with the right people around them. Just like good people can do bad, like priests. There are so many priests, who you think would be the most honest people on earth, who have raped little boys. I mean, even cops do things wrong on purpose. Everyone can be a bad person._

_There's not a set of steps to follow to become a criminal. There's things that you can recognize in criminals to be, like bed-wetting and pyromania and violence towards animals, but not all criminals have those behavioral issues and not all those who do turn out to be criminals. There are always exceptions, which is why we can never completely erase criminals. And the problem with media today is that everyone around the world can see and read stories about bad people. Serial killers, rapists, terrorists. People, the already easily influenced people, can get inspired by this. This happens to many school shooters in America._

_But is there a solution? I'm sure, because every single mind works differently. Every single human being is different, like snowflakes. And that's why I don't think we could ever completely prevent criminal behavior. But, we can try. For example by what I am doing right now: finding out more about serial killers and their minds, their thought process. And maybe if we know how serial killers are made, we can stop that from happening. Meanwhile, I'll do my job and keep you updated._

_\- Sam Wesson_

**__ **

"Tell me about your childhood."

"I like your style, you never waste any time," Dean said, shooting Sam a grin before he got more comfortable on his metal chair. He looked better, healthier, cleaner. Maybe those private showers were helping, huh? Sam really wanted to grin at that thought, a shit eating grin, because he felt like he was starting to have this killer under his control already. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything. But let's start easy. What were parents like?" Sam asked, putting his notebook down onto the table, staring at Dean and watching as the man looked away, shrugging a little. "Hey, we a deal. I'd get you private showers and you'd answer my questions. I held up my end of the bargain, now it's your turn. Or are you not a man of your word? Because I can take the shower time away just as quick as I got you it."

Dean swallowed before sighing, looking up at Sam again. "You're a real pain in my ass. You're lucky I really don't want to get my ass stuffed full of inmate dick," The man sat up straighter, leaning onto the table. Their faces were close together like this, and Sam could see that the serial killer had freckles. God, he was gorgeous. Did they have skincare products in prison? Because no one could get skin this flawless without exfoliating and using moisturizer. "My mom died when I was four, my dad was a deadbeat drunk 'cause he was heartbroken. I moved out when I was sixteen, decided that I wasn't going to let my childhood be an excuse for anything, and went my own way."

"How did your mother pass away?"

"You really wanna know all the details, huh buddy? Right, here we go," Dean licked his lips, his very plump pink lips, before he sighed and started to talk again. "I was born on the 24th of January, 1979. My mom's name was Mary, and my dad's name John. I had a pretty normal and happy childhood the first four years, but then my mom passed away in a house fire. My dad couldn't get over it, and turned to liquor. He wasn't very abusive. He hit me a few times, was pretty rude, but he didn't do any lasting physical damage. So I guess it was good. When I turned sixteen, I decided it was time to move out. Haven't seen my dad ever since."

Sam nodded slowly, taking notes while Dean talked. It was very interesting to hear about the serial killer and his parents. Apparently he was just another one who didn't have a great childhood, Sam couldn't say that he was surprised. He  _was_ pretty surprised about the lack of feelings in Dean's face and voice, but then again: this guy was a serial killer, most of them didn't have any feelings. That's why they could kill people.

"I mean, my childhood was okay. Aside from my mom dying, it wasn't that bad. Besides, who hasn't had a terrible childhood these days, right?" Dean bit his lip, staying silent for a few seconds before he spoke up again. "So, I moved out when I was sixteen, then decided to finish school and go to college. I landed a job as a mechanic, got an apartment, a boyfriend, and then ended up in prison. If I'd known that before then I could've saved a whole lot on college money... Are we done now? I'm tired."

"Not yet, I still have more questions. What was your parents' relationship like?" Sam paused, looking up at Dean who was staring up at the ceiling, looking bored. A boyfriend? Sam suddenly realized that no one had ever mentioned anything about Dean having a boyfriend. It wasn't that important, but there would at least have been interviews with the boyfriend, right? Unless Dean had killed him. "You had a boyfriend?"

Dean's expression suddenly changed. He looked angry, maybe even a little scared. That was interesting. "We're done here." Sam wanted to tell Dean 'no, we are not', but the expression on Dean's face was enough for Sam to feel like shitting his pants. Yeah, okay, they were done. Sam watched as Dean was pulled out of the room before the journalist sat back, staring at his notes. Dean had a boyfriend. Huh...

 

 


	4. Ex's

_**09/06/2005** _

_Dean Smith has a boyfriend. An actual boyfriend. Or had, perhaps. I'm not completely sure of their current relationship status. If Dean wasn't a serial killer, I would see no reason to break up with him. Have you seen his face? He looks amazing, and I understand that anyone in this world with a good sense of taste would have a crush on him-_

Sam sat back, pursing his lips together as he stared at his laptop. Yeah, that just didn't sound right, now did it? It sounded like  _he_ was the one with the crush on Dean. Which he didn't have, for your information. He wasn't  _that_ desperate. If he'd fall for someone, he would go for someone more... Well, sane. Not someone who killed people for fun. Adding that Dean had a boyfriend to his paper felt like he was revealing a secret, like he was saying something that he shouldn't say. But it was something that he needed to do, right? People wanted to know about Dean Smith, the serial killer. It was Sam's job to inform them and the rest of the world about everything that Dean was. Besides, this was a very important piece of information about Dean's personal life. But maybe that was also why it felt so wrong, because this was something personal that Dean had put a lot of effort in to hide. And Sam was just putting it out there in the world for everyone to see.

But who exactly was Dean's boyfriend? Sam hadn't even known that Dean was gay, or bisexual, or whatever he was. Most of his victims had been women, and even though they hadn't been touched in any sexual ways, everyone had just assumed they'd gone to motels with Dean or taken Dean to their place for a fun night only to be murdered. It wouldn't be much effort for him to take them home, now would it? Even though he was a very dangerous serial killer and people knew not to get involved with him, Dean still had fans. Groupies. People who... Liked what he did or something like that. Which, yes, was insane.

_Most of you have heard of people like Charles Manson and Ted Bundy. They were dangerous men and eventually caught and cannot ever hurt anyone again, but there's still something very interesting about them aside from their intents to kill. Even when they were locked up and details about how they killed and what they had done came out to the world, they still had fans. Women, and sometimes men, still were completely entranced and intrigued by the killers. They were fans, groupies, admirers. Isn't that weird? That has always fascinated me: why are people attracted by killers?_

_Maybe it has something to do with the fact that people still like danger. Humans are attracted to danger, they search it out. And why? Because of the adrenaline. Adrenaline is like a natural drug for your body. It gets you on a high that actually won't damage you. And the best thing? It's absolutely free. It gives you that amazing rush to be in danger, or at least close to danger._

_Most killers target the weak and the desperate. For example: most women who are targeted have never been accepted. They have maybe been abused by their close family members, have never had friends, have never felt special- these men, these killers, these psychopaths, they make those girls feel amazing and special, like they are worth so much more than everyone else. And what girl doesn't want to feel like that? The thrill these women feel when they are accepted and 'loved' and 'desired' by the serial killers, who often are charming and not even that bad looking, is amazing to them and then they're lost._

_Dean Smith isn't bad looking either. So, the idea of him having a boyfriend isn't strange to me. Or to anyone. How could he be single? But I would like to know why no one in the media has ever talked about Dean's boyfriend, whoever that is. How was he able to stay out of the media?_

Sam sighed again, sitting back and closing his laptop. This was enough writing for today, he was getting a headache and he could feel the inspiration leaving him. He didn't want to write shitty things. He felt weird inside, as if there was something not right. Maybe he was just lonely, or jealous, because how could a dangerous and psychopathic man like Dean get a relationship whereas Sam had been single for almost six years? He was sane, now was't he? Wasn't that much better?

There was something just not right, not adding up. The media these days was ruthless, paparazzi wouldn't leave famous people alone so why didn't anyone know about Dean's boyfriend? At least  _someone_ would have to know about him, right? There was just something weird going on, and Sam had to find out what that was...

Dean leaned back, staring at the wall. He had fucked up, told that stupid journalist about his ex boyfriend. How could he have done something that dumb? He had promised not to tell, this could ruin everything. This was going to ruin anything. He had to do something to not talk to Sam again- even if that would get a few of his bones broken. Or, or maybe he actually did have to talk to Sam, talk him out of getting to know more about Dean's ex. Maybe that was smarter, more efficient, less painful. Dean liked things not being painful. Besides, his life was already ruined, his ex's life didn't have to be.

So, Dean decided that he was going to have to talk to Sam and lead him back around to Dean, not to boyfriends and relationships and all that. No, this had to be about Dean only, Dean and his... Psychopathic ways. That shouldn't be too hard, right? He sighed, pulling his knees up to his chest, the stone wall hurting his spine. This wasn't comfortable, it would  _never_ be comfortable, but it was his life. It would always be his life. He was locked up in here forever, with no way out other than to tell the truth. But he couldn't, he really couldn't, because he would hurt everyone and fuck everything up. So, all he could do was sit back and try to make the most out of his life sentence. And maybe one day a miracle would happen...


	5. The Realization

"Alright, let's see." Sam muttered to himself, searching through the first news articles on Dean Smith. He scanned through them, reading about the murders that he had already memorized. He'd read so much about them that he knew pretty much every detail. But he never once noticed  _anything_ about Dean having a partner. Dean's MO, his Modus Operandi, was always the same. The man worked on his own, always took out girls. He never raped them or touched them in any way, which was somewhat nice. Sam didn't like that Dean murdered those girls, but at least it always seemed as if he just... did it. He didn't draw it out, he just murdered them after taking them somewhere. It never seemed as if they suffered much. Which was a good thing, considering that they were murdered in cold blood.

Sam had always been a little confused about Dean's reasons to kill, his motive to murder. Dean didn't seem very interested in any girls, and he had never actually given a motive. And now that Sam was thinking about it, there had never actually been any evidence that it was Dean who was the murderer. Besides circumstantial evidence and Dean's confession, they had nothing. Hell, if Dean hadn't confessed, they couldn't have locked Dean up for life. So, why did Dean confess? No criminal without feelings, which a serial killer usually was, did that. Not if they had no reason to, not if they had no need for it. So what was different with Dean? 

 _Dean Smith, boyfriend._ Nothing.  _Dean Smith, relationship._ Nothing.  _Dean Smith, gay._ Nothing.

Right, so something was going on. Something wasn't right. Sam was sure of that now. How could it be right if Dean said that he'd had a boyfriend and Sam couldn't find any evidence of that anywhere? He was going to have to find this boyfriend one way or another. He had to find out more, he had to talk to Dean and figure this out. Sam knew that Dean wasn't going to want to talk to him, but he was going to  _have_ to. Sam would figure it out, he would figure something out one way or another. He wasn't going to rest until he knew exactly who Dean's boyfriend or ex was, and why the hell no one knew about the guy...

 

"I got you coffee."

"Oh, you're trying to win me over, huh? You're trying to uh, you know, make me talk or something?" Dean asked, looking at the cup that Sam put down on the table. "You do know that you're gonna have to push it a little closer, right? I'm chained to the table."

"Right. Uh, yeah, sorry." Sam muttered, pushing the cup a little closer so Dean could actually grab it. The criminal did so, taking a sip and groaning a little, at which Sam raised his eyebrows. "Don't get a lot of good coffee, huh?"

"Not really, no. Everything here is horrible, it sucks, but hey what can I do about it? I'm locked up here, so... It's all I can get," Dean said, taking another sip of coffee. "So, what do you need?"

"I want you to tell me about the murders. More specifically, about Sarah McClane," Sam took a file from his backpack, putting it on the table and opening it. He took out some things he'd gotten from newspapers and the internet, some case files from the cops, and some pictures he'd found online. He had searched very hard and long to get these things, and he was pretty proud of managing it. "She was one of your victims."

Dean glanced at the pictures, wincing a little, even managing to look disgusted. Huh, that was strange. Usually killers weren't scared of what they had done. And Dean was kind of known for being a little gruesome, so why did he do what he did and then when Sam showed to him he could hardly even look at it? "Okay, so? I'm sorry for killing her? What do you want?"

"This is your first victim," Sam said, making Dean look at the picture again, frowning a little. He looked almost... Sorry. Like he had regrets, like he felt guilty. That was extremely confusing. If he regretted killing this girl, then why had he killed the many others? Like Sam had said before: something really wasn't adding up. "Why don't you tell me about her? Your motive, the way you killed her, everything."

"Right, of course," Dean muttered, putting the cup down after downing the rest of the coffee, looking up at Sam and staring into his eyes, hardly blinking as he talked. "She was just some girl I picked up at a bar, used my charms on her and took her to some motel where I cut her strangled her to death. Just because I wanted, just because I could."

Sam nodded slowly, taking down notes while he listened Dean talk. It was interesting, very interesting, because now Sam knew that Dean wasn't the actual murderer. Dean was innocent, he hadn't done anything. Sarah McClane wasn't strangled. It was 'Dean's' first kill, his most gruesome kill too. And Dean didn't remember it. No, Dean  _pretended_ to remember it. So, Sam had figured out what wasn't adding up. Dean was innocent, and he was being framed for murders he hadn't committed. Sam was going to find out who did this, and why, and how the hell to get Dean out. Because Dean wasn't a bad guy, and he deserved to be free...


	6. Bobby Singer

"He hasn't done it."

Sam's boss looked at him, raising a single brow. Sure, yeah, it sounded a little ridiculous, but, was it really? Not everyone in prison or jail was guilty, mostly because the cops weren't as great as they thought they were. People were thrown in there because of many reasons, and not always because they had done what they were in for. "He admitted to all of the murders, Sam. Why are you trying to prove him innocent?"

"Because he is, and that means he deserves to be outside." Sam said, always having been one for justice. Hey, he was a goody two shoes, he'd never ever gotten into trouble. Not even with his parents. He had always obeyed them, listened to their rules, was home before his curfew- not that he ever really went out, because it just wasn't any fun to him. He hated it. He'd never drank much alcohol, or taken any drugs or even skipped class. "The one who is  _actually_ responsible should be locked up, right? Or is that something strange of me to think?"

"Sam, I don't want to be like this but..." Sam's boss sighed, folding his hands over each other and looking at Sam like he felt sorry for the guy. That look had always been a horrible thing to Sam, to anyone probably. It was never a good thing if someone looked at you like this. "Dean Smith confessed, and the murders have stopped after he was locked up." 

"Have they? Maybe the  _actual_ killer has learned how to hide the victims better?" Sam suggested, leaning a little more over his boss' desk, staring at him intently. He wasn't going to leave the office before he had convinced the other man that Dean indeed could be innocent. Dean had to be. There was no way in hell that Dean wasn't innocent. "It's possible, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," The older man slowly said, letting out another sigh. Sam was kind of going crazy with those sighs, it wasn't a good thing and Sam had thought that convincing his boss of Dean's innocence would be much easier. Or at least he'd hoped it to be. "But a lot of things are possible, Sam. And this is unlikely. Look, Sam, you're getting into this way too much. Maybe you should stop this, Dean is getting into your head."

"Not to be disrespectful, but I don't get you. You wanted me to write a story, but when I find out something interesting, you don't want me to talk about it." Sam kind of snapped, getting desperate by now. He needed this to work out, okay? He needed to have his boss believe him, because he couldn't stand it that Dean was locked up. "And Dean is not getting into my head, okay? Trust me, he has nothing on me. I just want to make sure he's actually guilty."

"Why are you so sure that Dean isn't guilty?"

"He told me about a boyfriend he'd had." Ah,  _now_ his boss looked interested. Yes, this was something new, no one else had been talking about a possible boyfriend before. And especially no one had any proof of Dean saying anything about this. Sam had proof, he had it on tape and he was definitely going to use that. But first he wanted to find said boyfriend. "I couldn't find anything about a boyfriend, so he's been hiding it for some reason. But what reason? He didn't want to talk about his boyfriend, when I tried asking him he sent me out of the room."

"So? This isn't much to go on, Sam. Loads of people have had horrible break ups, this is not special."

"No, I know." Sam said, starting to smile a little. He knew he had his boss by now. And that was a very good thing"But then I got information on his first murder. His supposed first murder. Sarah McClane. She was his first kill, and the only murder where he had a different method. Which means he should've remembered it. Dean looked disgusted, could hardly look at the pictures and the file, and then couldn't remember any detail about the case at all. He just said he'd strangled her."

"Huh. That is interesting. So what do you want to do now?"

"Get him out of there, of course. I don't want him in there if he's innocent, but worst of all: the real killer would be out there still. So all I want to do is figure out who the real killer is, and my first guess is Dean's mystery boyfriend."

"Right. Well, good luck, Sam. You'll get everything you need to solve this mystery." Sam grinned, shaking his boss' hand. This was what he'd hoped for, this was going to be so amazing. Dean was going to get out of jail one way or another one day soon, because, well, he was innocent. And Sam was going to prove that.

"Hi, my name is Sam Wesson. I'm looking for a Bobby Singer?" The man who opened the door raised a thick, grey brow, stepping a little closer towards Sam. The area where he was wasn't exactly... Nice. It had taken Sam a while to get through the junk yard with hundreds of ruined cars, Sam had never in his life seen anything like this before. But, he knew what lay at the end. Or somewhere in the middle, he wasn't exactly sure. There was a pretty big house which would've looked nice years ago, but it didn't seem like it had been taken care of very well. It was dark, overgrown, and the owner seemed to fit that. The best Sam could describe him was a trucker, with the cap and the beard and the... Posture. 

Sam had heard that this man had been and still was very important to Dean, which was obviously interesting. It was something that Sam had to look into, because Dean was still a mystery and Bobby Singer hadn't been interviewed very well. Sam just hoped he was going to be able to get some information from this guy since no one else had done so. 

"What d'ya need?" The man gruffly asked, taking on a stance that Sam felt was a little threatening. Yeah, okay, he got that no one had really wanted to talk to this guy. He was a little scary to say the least, huh? He understood that mister Singer didn't really wanted to talk to all these journalists and that he had been bothered enough- I mean, hello, his sort of son was locked up for multiple murders.

"I read that you're Dean Smith's adoptive father?"

"Yeah, why?" Bobby asked, fixing his cap and then folding his arms over his chest, pulling at his beard a little. Sam felt kind of bad for him because he really didn't want to bother the guy. "'Cause I ain't gonna give you journalists more about him to make money off, y'all are sons of bitches. Makin' Dean into a story, makin' him into a freakshow. Y'all do anythin' for a bit of cash, don't ya?"

"That's not why I am here." Sam immediately said, looking at Bobby, hoping to look as innocent and honest as he could. The reason why he was here was not even for money, Sam couldn't give less of a crap about money. "I mean, yes I'm here to find out more about Dean, but only enough to get him out."

"To get him out?" Mister Singer looked confused now, probably never having heard someone say like this. Especially not a journalist. Alright, now Sam felt even worse for the guy. Look, he knew journalists were often very annoying and yes, they did pretty much everything for money, but Sam wasn't like that. Sam liked the thrill of figuring out the truth, not just trying to write what would get him the most fame and the most money. No, he now needed and wanted to get to the truth. 

"I know he's innocent. Or at least I believe he is, and I want to find out who is responsible for the murders." Sam tried to explain, making Bobby frown even more. God, what had those stupid journalists done to him? "I just need more information, and Dean isn't talking. I thought maybe his adoptive father would know more about him?"

"Let me get this clear: you want to ask me stuff so you can get Dean out?" Bobby asked, making Sam nod quickly, smiling charmingly. Hey, he had those pretty puppy eyes. They worked on anyone, buddy. They got him pretty much everything they wanted. "Why? Why do you care if he's in there guilty or not? Everyone believes he's guilty."

"I don't think he is, sir. Because he didn't know details about his first murder. I think his boyfriend did it. Or his ex boyfriend. He just doesn't want to talk about him."

Bobby sighed, shaking his head while opening the door and stepping to the side so Sam could get into the house. "That stupid stubborn boy... You want coffee?"

"Coffee sounds great, sir. Thank you." Sam walked inside, looking around and walking into the living room. The entire place seemed to be cluttered with all kinds of things. Dishes, empty bottles of liquor, newspaper clippings on Dean's case. Ah, so he had been doing research, too. So, Bobby believed that Dean was innocent already, which made two of them. That also meant that Bobby was probably going to tell him things that no one else knew.

"Sit down, make yourself comfortable. You break anythin', you buy it." Mister Singer said, putting a cup down in front of Sam as soon as the journalist sat down. Bobby sat down in a chair at the other side of the coffee table, looking at Sam with a raised eyebrow, pulling at his grey beard again. "You gonna ask me any questions or what?"

"Did you know Dean had a boyfriend?"

"Yes." Bobby said, nodding his head slowly while he looked to his side at a picture on the wall. It was a young Dean, probably a school picture. He looked adorable, really. Sam couldn't help the small smile from creeping up on his lips. "Knew he was gay, didn't give a single crap. That boy has a heart of gold, he's too kind for his own good. 'S what got him locked up, y'know?"

"So he is in there for his boyfriend?" Sam asked, making Bobby look back at him, taking a sip of coffee. "Because every time I tried asking Dean about his boyfriend, he just basically ignored me. I think something went on between them, and Dean took the blame. Maybe because he's such a nice guy, or maybe said boyfriend is just very manipulating."

"Well Dean didn't do nothin' himself, if you're askin'. The kid had everything he'd ever wanted, he wasn't gonna throw that away. He was a mechanic, had a little apartment, had happiness. Besides, he's too nice. He couldn't ever hurt a fly, so how could he kill anyone?" Bobby said, letting out a huff of air. He seemed pissed off, Sam would be too if his adopted son would've been framed for multiple murders. "If you ask me, it'd been that boyfriend of his'. Never trusted that guy."

"Have you ever met him?" 

"Couldn't have distrusted him if I didn't know him, now could I?" Bobby mumbled, shaking his head, looking down at his cup. Sam grabbed his own cup, taking a sip of the coffee. "Met him a handful of times. He was this... God obsessed creep."

"God obsessed... As in he liked God a little too much?" Sam scribbled stuff down in the notebook he'd put down on his leg, frowning a little. Many serial killers had a very religious past. Their parents might've been a little  _too_ strict and God loving, which made their kids hate women and somehow become killers. Not all of them, of course. There were multiple factors to it.

"Mmh, that guy wasn't right in the head. He prayed a little too much and wanted everyone to be good and righteous. He hated sinners."

"But he was gay? 'Cause that doesn't make sense. Most Christians say that being gay is a sin, right?" Sam was frowning now, confused. A state he was mostly in these days. He didn't think that, if God was real, the guy/girl meant for gays to be sinners. Sam thought God couldn't give less of a crap about anyone's sexuality. God just cared if you were a good person or not, and people who discriminated and harmed other people for their religion or sexual preferences or whatever else weren't good people.

"Yeah, I don't think he really cared about what he himself was doin', kid. He murdered all those girls after all." Bobby snorted a little, making Sam hum and nod slowly, writing down more on his notepad. This whole case was getting more and more interesting by the day, and he wanted to desperately know this murderer. 

"Right... So you think he killed them because...?"

"Probably because he saw them as whores or somethin'." Bobby said, tugging on his beer and looking down a little at his cup. "Dean once told me that the guy would hardly even kiss him. Hell, they hardly ever touched hands. It was a weird relationship. But Dean seemed happy, so I tried to keep my judgement to myself. Thought I was jus' bein' an old man. I'm thinkin' Jimmy brainwashed him, though."

"His name is Jimmy?" Sam wasn't sure what he'd expected this guy's name to be, but definitely not something as simple as this. Jimmy just seemed to be... Well, not something for a serial killer. But then again, what was a serial killer name, right? It's not like: 'if you name your kid Chad he will murder seven women'. If only it would be that easy, huh?

"Yeah, Jimmy..." Bobby paused, thinking for a moment with a deep frown on his face, like he really had to dig into his memory. "Novak, I think. Goes by Castiel, though. He says that's a name given to him by God. He was real insane... You don't wanna go pay him a visit, do you boy?"

"Well, I do. I want to talk to him." Sam said, packing up his notebook again. He had everything he needed, and he would come back to Bobby if he needed more. Bobby was a great guy, Sam liked him. But he also got where Dean his stubbornness from. And his gruffness. And his pretty much everything.

"Good luck on that, kid. I don't think you'll find him. Dean took the blame, and I don't think he's ever getting out." Bobby said, putting his cup down. Huh. Sam believed Dean was getting out though. He  _knew_ that Dean was getting out. There was no way in Hell he was going to let Dean rot in prison when he wasn't actually guilty.

"I promise you, if he really is innocent, I'm getting him out. I'm getting to Jimmy Novak one way or another, and I'll get the right person locked up."


	7. Jimmy Novak

"Jimmy. Jimmy Novak." Said Sam, making Dean tense. If that wasn't confirmation that Dean knew this guy, Sam's name wasn't Sam. He hadn't actually gone out to find Jimmy yet, mostly because he first wanted Dean's side of the story. Dean knew things about Jimmy that other people didn't, that Bobby didn't, and Sam could use said things against 'Castiel' and figure out a way to get that asshole to confess. Because Jimmy had done it, Sam had never been more sure about anything in his entire damn life. "Does that sound familiar in any way?"

"You've talked to Bobby, haven't you?" Dean was smarter than most people gave him credit for. Usually everyone just saw his looks first, and Sam didn't blame them. Those green eyes, those long lashes, those freckles, that charming smile on those beautiful plump lips- yeah, even Sam was entranced by his looks. And somehow people always thought that pretty people couldn't be smart. Dean probably used this to his advantage most of the time. But Sam had him figured out, he knew that Dean was just as smart, if not smarter, than Sam was. Which is why he was going to have no problem convincing Dean that telling Sam about Novak was a good idea.

"Look, Dean, I know that you haven't done this. I know that you are protecting your ex for some reason. I just don't know why, or how he's convinced you that you needed to do this. But you're throwing away your life here." Sam softly said, trying to explain to Dean that he actually was trying to help him. Because that was all he was doing by now. He wasn't going to try and make money off this story, because right now all he cared about was Dean. Which was a little weird, and strange, and creepy. Did Dean really have this much influence on him already? Goddamn it, Sam wasn't going to allow himself to fall in love with Dean. He wasn't going to have a stupid crush on anyone, and especially not Dean who was locked up because of his bad taste in partners.

"You're not going to give up, huh?" Dean spoke up, shaking his head a little. He looked at Sam, one eyebrow raised, looking mostly annoyed and like he just couldn't believe what he was hearing. Sam knew that Dean's lawyer hadn't exactly been... Great. Actually, Dean's lawyer without a doubt sucked ass. Sam had never seen a worse lawyer than Dean's lawyer. Seriously, the guy had hardly even tried to keep Dean out of jail. So, no one had really fought for Dean, which maybe meant that Dean couldn't believe that Sam was trying to fight for him and get him out. But Dean was gonna have to believe Sam, he was just gonna have to trust him. "You're just gonna keep on pushing and pushing and talking about shit you shouldn't be talking about. You're only gonna be in trouble, okay? You're gonna get yourself in trouble, and you're gonna get yourself and people you love hurt."

"I guess you already know me too well." Sam grinned, making Dean roll his eyes. Hey, he had to keep the conversation a little happier and light, right? If they were both going to be all upset and what not it wasn't going to be any fun. Not that this was going to be fun- actually, putting Jimmy in jail should be at least a little fun. That asshole deserved to be in jail and Sam was definitely going to laugh in his face. "You're right, I'm not going to give up. I want Jimmy in jail instead of you, because you're innocent. And, well... I don't really care if I get hurt. If so, then they can see that you're not the one doing the murdering stuff. When you're in jail, you couldn't have murdered me now could you?"

"You're insane."

"Yeah, and very annoying and stubborn." Sam happily said, winking at Dean. If Sam didn't know any better, he would say that he saw a little flush come over Dean's cheeks. It was actually kind of cute, Sam liked it. He wanted to see it more often. And with more often he meant all the time. "It's a curse. It's why I became a journalist. Now, tell me about Jimmy."

"What if I don't want to?"

"I wasn't expecting you to want to talk about him." Sam slowly said, licking his lips before he let out a soft sigh. He knew that Dean wasn't just going to do this. I mean, the man went to jail for this guy for fuck's sake. If he'd done that, then he wasn't just going to give up now. But Sam wasn't going to give up either. This was basically unmovable object versus unmovable object. I know that's not the correct thing, but who cares? I don't. "But if you ever want to get out of here, you're gonna have to trust me and talk about him. Doesn't it hurt you that he's out there, probably continuing what he did best, while you're stuck in here for the rest of your life for crimes that you didn't even commit? I would be a little hurt."

"It doesn't matter. It's done now, and I can't get out. Not anymore. I've already confessed." Dean muttered, looking down and tugging a little on the chains that were holding him to the table. Dean kept commenting to the guards that it was pretty kinky but he wasn't into them, but Sam saw through that too. He was scared of this, of this whole situation. Dean was really hot, wasn't he? Hot guys had to be more careful in jail and prison and such things. Sam really was glad he'd gotten Dean his private shower time.

"Now, you see, you haven't actually." Sam started grinning now, leaning over the table a little more. He was so excited about this part, because he had done his research, and he was going to get Dean out of here so fast. "You've said that you've done it, maybe. But they don't actually have any evidence that you did. They didn't tape it, is what I mean. So they don't have proof. Which means that they can't use it against you. And they don't have anything but circumstantial evidence, which means that if we play our cards right, you could out of here within no time."

"But if they didn't have anything on me, why did they say I'm guilty?"

"They were scared. The public was terrified. They needed to feel like they had everything under control. I doubt they even really cared if you were actually the one or not."Sam explained, putting his arms on the table and folding his hands together. Sam had also studied to be a lawyer for a couple of years, which made this whole thing a lot easier. He knew what he was doing. "I think they were very happy they could lock someone up, whether you'd actually done it or not. Which is why we can get you out, easily. You just have to work with me and tell me everything you know about your ex boyfriend, Dean."

"Yes, his name is Jimmy Novak. But he called himself Castiel." Dean said after a long pause, looking down. He looked scared, and Sam didn't doubt for a moment that he was. Hell, he'd be scared too. But he was going to get Dean out of here, and that guy didn't have to worry about Jimmy ever again.

> _**16/06/2005** _
> 
> _Jimmy Novak. Current location unknown, though Dean informed me that the last place they had been together was Miami, Florida, where they had gone on vacation there. Though Dean told me that Novak might have murdered at least three girls there. The last place they had lived together was Wichita, Kansas. Here they'd had an apartment, one where they were supposedly happy._
> 
> _Jimmy wasn't exactly a normal person. He called himself Castiel, angel of the lord. He was more than a little insane, a little too in love with God and his many mysterious ways. Jimmy, according to Dean, saw himself as an angel, a prophet, and many more holy important things. He thought that God was telling him to do all this, and at the time Dean was so in love and also very terrified that he would be the murdered one next, that he believed Jimmy. He knew it was wrong, but Jimmy was so convincing and Dean was in a bad place financially and his now ex boyfriend had always been so nice and taken such good care of him. It was almost like Jimmy had brainwashed Dean._
> 
> _And then the cops closed in on Jimmy, and somehow he'd convinced Dean that this was what was right. Dean was going to have to confess, and Jimmy was going to make sure that Dean wasn't going to end up in jail. But after Dean confessed, he never heard from Jimmy again. His phone number was out of order, and neither Dean nor Bobby could get a hold of him. So, Dean just gave up. This was his fate now. He believed that he deserved this because he'd let 'Castiel' kill those girls._
> 
> _But I don't think Dean deserves any of this. Jimmy deserves to be locked up for his crimes, and I'm gonna get that done. Next thing: find Jimmy Novak._
> 
> _\- Sam Wesson_


	8. The Confession

> _**19/06/2005** _
> 
> _This case is interesting._
> 
> _I have worked on getting to Jimmy 'Castiel' Novak. I know that in order to get more information on anything in this case, I need to talk to him. He's the most important puzzle piece in this, but he keeps himself well hidden. And well, I dislike that. But I'm not a journalist for nothing. I'm curious, I need to get to the bottom of this. And I've sworn to Dean Smith and Bobby Singer that I'm getting Dean out of there. I can't fail, honestly. I'd fail myself and so many other people. So, I just kept going. I searched for Jimmy Novak, searched all around where Dean had last seen him, and to my surprise I actually found him._
> 
> _I hadn't expected it, but he stayed where he was last seen. Which is kind of stupid, don't you think? As a murderer, you don't want to stay next to your crime scenes. And that is exactly what Jimmy is doing._
> 
> _I did some research on Miami, and I figured out that there are some missing persons there. Again, they're all women and most of them are actually strippers, aka 'sinners'. At least they are in the eyes of someone who is extremely obsessed with religion and God and what not. I'm assuming that those missing girls have been taken by Jimmy and that they're no longer alive. I do think that he's pretty intelligent. I mean, he got someone else to go to jail for him so he has to be pretty smart, right? Or charming. Maybe he was more like Ted Bundy, that type of person. All psychopathic. Anyways, what I wanted to write was that he is pretty smart for picking girls like strippers and street workers. Sadly, they are usually not looked after, and usually don't have a lot of people around them who care enough about them to notice that something is wrong. This makes it easier to kidnap them and murder them._
> 
> _Though, I'm not sure if Jimmy does it for that reason. If he is really that religious, if I have to believe Bobby Singer and Dean, then the only reason why Jimmy took these girls is because he wants them to pay for their sins. Which obviously is ridiculous, but this man is not sane anyways. So, let's just ignore that and go straight to the facts. Jimmy Novak is in Miami, Florida, and I have his phone number. I called him this morning, and asked him if maybe we could meet. I might have pretended to be a priest who got a vision from God about someone named 'Castiel' doing his righteous work. Hey, sometimes I lie to get what I want. And only if they were for the good of humanity._
> 
> _Jimmy wanted to meet me, so that's what we are going to do. He believed my story, because apparently he thinks a little too highly of himself and he really thinks that God wants him to do this. That to me is hilarious, because I believe that God, if he exists, is the only one who can make that judgement. He is the only one who can send anyone to Heaven or Hell. Not some serial killer. Especially not some serial killer._
> 
> _So, I'm going to see Jimmy Novak, the one who I suspect of committing all the murders that Dean is in jail for. And I'm going to get this story straight once and for all._
> 
> _\- Sam Wesson_

__

"Sam Wesson?" 

Sam looked up, smiling at the man who was standing in front of him. They had decided to meet at 'Castiel's' house, mostly because Sam wanted the privacy. He was pretty sure that Jimmy wouldn't talk as much as he could if they were in a public place. Yes, he was taking a chance with this, but at the same time he was sure that Jimmy wouldn't kill him. He wasn't a girl, after all. Jimmy Novak was smaller than Sam with dark hair and striking blue eyes. Dean had a good taste, Sam had to admit that. Hopefully maybe Sam was just as hot as that in Dean's eyes. "Yes, that's me. Castiel, right?"

"It's pronounced Cast _i_ el," The man said, making Sam chuckle. "But no worries. I'm guessing you didn't have time to ask God how to pronounce my name... Come on in, make yourself at home." Sam walked inside the place, looking around. It was a small apartment, filled with crosses and paintings of Jesus and angels on the walls. It was kind of unsettling. 

"Mind if I take some pictures of these paintings? They look amazing, I want to make sure I can have someone make ones like these."

"No no, I don't mind at all. They are beautiful, after all. Go right ahead, I'll make us some tea." Jimmy walked away, leaving Sam alone in the living room. He couldn't care less about the Jesus paintings, but what he did care about was the clear as day evidence that was next to it. Pictures of the girls Jimmy had taken of what Sam assumed where the girls he had murdered. It looked like he had been stalking them. Sam took some quick pictures with his phone, pretending to take pics of the paintings instead of the evidence. "So, what did you want to talk about, father Sam?"

"Oh! You scared me," Sam breathed out, quickly turning on the voice recorder before putting his phone face down on the coffee table, sitting down on the couch and accepting the tea Jimmy handed him. "Well, like I had said, I had a vision. Last night, God appeared to me. He told me that I should talk to one of his children named Castiel who has been doing his righteous work. He wants me to do the same."

"He does? Oh, I knew it. You are just like me, you are chosen, aren't you? Oh father, I am sure you will be perfect for this. Those sinners, those girls, they go after handsome men such as yourself." Jimmy grinned, making Sam smile back. It was definitely a forced smile, but it wasn't like Jimmy could tell. Sam had gotten quite good at faking emotions. He wasn't sure if he should be flattered by Jimmy saying this, that he was handsome. It definitely didn't sound good. "Right, so... What are you planning on doing?"

"I came here to ask you to inform me about... How you go to work. God said you were doing it so well, I just needed to ask you and let you teach me." Sam slowly said, making Jimmy smile even wider. He looked excited about this, that sick pervert. He hated this, he really did. Look, he knew this was getting him what he wanted: a confession. But that didn't mean he was enjoying it. He felt sick doing this, sick and dirty. "So please, Castiel, teach me your ways."

"Gladly, father, gladly."

 


	9. The Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to thank you all for reading this story and commenting on it and leaving Kudos. This is much different from any other story I've ever made, but I kind of dig it. So, thank you for supporting me. It brings me very much joy, let's just say that.

Sam put down his work phone, smirking a little at the cop who jumped. He'd just walked into the police station, phone in hand, and was ready to play the recording he had made of Jimmy 'Castiel' Novak confessing to the murders. It was incredibly stupid, and Sam didn't understand how he got so lucky, but he knew that the bastard who was actually responsible was finally going to be caught and locked up forever. And, bonus points: Dean wasn't going to be in jail anymore. Ever, hopefully. Sam was kind of enjoying that thought a lot. Maybe more than the thought that Novak was going to be locked up.

Yes, Sam had feelings for Dean. And yes, he knew those feelings really shouldn't be there. They were stupid, this was a work thing and Dean would never feel the same. Obviously, seeing as Dean's ex-boyfriend was Castiel, Sam wasn't his type at all. I mean, come on. Blue eyes, dark hair, shorter, stockier? Sam wasn't like that, not in any way like that. He was tall, lean, had longer hair and hazel eyes. He didn't look like Castiel, which meant that Dean probably would never like him 'cause Sam just wasn't his type. Which sucked, of course. But at the same time, Sam knew he shouldn't have any false hope. The only thing that could happen was that he would get hurt. And Sam didn't want to get hurt. He just wanted to get Dean out of jail and get him the freedom he deserved.

"Uhm, what can I do for you, sir?" The cop asked, making me smile before pushing the phone a little closer to the guy who looked clearly nervous. New guy, I knew the look. It was kind of adorable. New people at work should get more respect. We all have to start somewhere, right? 

"I have some information on the murders Dean Smith is convicted for," Sam said, making the cop's eyes widen. The whole serial killer thing had been a huge thing around America, so, he wasn't surprised that the cop looked so stunned and even kind of scared. "So, I'd like to talk to someone because this is some very important information. And please make sure that they know it's incredibly important. Thank you."

The cop rushed away to get someone, making Sam smile while he looked at his phone. Dean was going to be free in no time, Sam was sure of it. He was going to be Dean's hero, and maybe that would mean that Dean would feel stuff for him. That would always be nice, of course. Sam wouldn't mind that at all. He was going to take care of this, and he was going to make sure Dean would never get locked up again...

> _**27/07/2005** _
> 
> _It's been a while, hasn't it?_
> 
> _In these few weeks a lot has happened. It has been a month and it feels like everything happened in a day and at the same time it feels like it took years. But, I have good news: I got justice. It was served. Hot. Steaming hot. You have no idea how great it feels to write that. I got into this thinking I'd make a simple report on Dean Smith, serial killer, but I've actually solved a crime. Somehow. It still feels extremely strange, but it worked out in the end._
> 
> _I showed the cops the evidence that I had, and it was enough to re-open the investigation. They concluded that Dean had taken the fall for 'Castiel' because he had been so in love, and because 'Castiel' had told him that he would get Dean out in no time. But, that didn't happen. He was just going to let Dean rot in jail for things that he hadn't even done. And I'm glad I didn't let that happen._
> 
> _In the end they found more than enough evidence to lock Jimmy Novak up. Forever. He isn't really in jail. More so in a special place for mentally unstable people. But, I'm guessing it's close enough to hell. He'll end up there eventually anyways, that crazy asshole. I still cannot believe that someone could just do something like this to a bunch of innocent girls, just because he thought he was the one who could make the judgement on if they were evil or not. They weren't, they were just doing their jobs. I feel sorry for those girls, and for their families, but I'm glad that the killer has been caught. The actual killer this time._
> 
> _Anyways, Dean is trying to get back to his own life. Obviously there's a whole lot of media attention for him since he was a supposed serial killer but now he isn't anymore. It's just a big story. But I told him it would die down eventually. He told me that he was going to go on a little trip, just to, you know, get back some of the time he's lost. Just to get back to himself, become more himself._
> 
> _I don't know if I am ever going to see him again, that's going to be a question I cannot answer. But, I'm just extremely glad that he's gotten the truth out there and he's gotten his freedom back. He'd given up hope on himself, on his case, he was going to be locked up forever- according to himself. I wasn't going to let that happen. And it's made me realize there have to be more people out there like him, who were locked up for someone else's crimes. Now that I'm done helping Dean, I think it's time I started helping others._
> 
> _Until the next time._
> 
> _\- Sam Wesson_

__

Sam looked up from his laptop when he heard a knock at the door, getting up to open it. His eyes widened when he saw who was standing there, smiling at him. "Dean." The man looked good. In the months they hadn't seen each other, Dean had surely gotten better. He looked healthier, stronger, happier. Sam was sure that life outside did him great. I mean, being locked up for a while in such a violence filled place could do no one good. "Hi, uh, sorry. I didn't expect you to ever come back... You look great."

"Thanks," Dean grinned, brushing a hand through his hair. "You're kidding me, right? I mean, you're the one who got me out, it's only fair if I came back to at least thank you. I can't really remember having done that," Sam muttered something about Dean being too busy with being released anyways and that it didn't matter, but Dean brushed that off. "No, I should've thanked you. You got me out, and I owe my freedom to you. Thank you." Sam smiled softly at Dean's words, nodding his head a little. "So, I also came to ask you out on a date."

This, Sam didn't believe. What the hell was suddenly happening? Dean was asking him out on a date? That was amazing. How was he ever going to disagree to that? He'd be incredibly stupid if he did. "Y- Yes, yeah, I'd... I'd love to go out on a date with you, Dean. That would be amazing... This isn't just to thank-"

"No. Trust me. This isn't to thank you. I'm taking you out on a date because I think you're attractive, and I'd love to date you." Dean smiled, making Sam smile back at him. Huh, so maybe this case was even more life changing than he had thought it would be. And that was pretty cool. Yeah, he thought that was pretty damn awesome. He was happy, and Dean seemed to be pretty damn happy too. So what was stopping them from living the rest of their lives together, right? Nothing. So, Sam grabbed Dean by his waist and pulled him closer, kissing him on the lips as sweetly as he could. Yeah, this was the greatest thing that had ever happened to Sam. And he was going to make sure that they were both going to be happy together forever...


End file.
